The words had barely left her mouth when Silas Fairchild's sardonic baritone came through the phone.
"Whether it's my idea, his idea, or the Fairchild family's idea—does it really matter?"
Seraphina felt her chest tighten, choked by Silas Fairchild's words.
She took a deep breath, trying to reply as calmly as possible.
"Whether it's your idea, the Fairchild family's, or Damian Fairchild's, I refuse."
This time, Silas Fairchild laughed out loud.
"Your refusal has never meant a thing to my family. Take Genevieve, for instance. You raised him for five years, but didn't the Fairchild family get custody in the end? And isn't he closest to me, his uncle, now?"
Furious, Seraphina Quinn hung up on Silas Fairchild.
She felt the Fairchilds were nothing but a bunch of thugs.
The stress was already affecting her pregnancy, and she hadn't even left the hospital, yet the Fairchild family was already scheming to take her baby.
'Isn't this taking things too far?'
